Adam Strauss

Berm, topographic
Snag, some
Horizon, panel of pores—
Pours greenly, infects my
Eye with taints of majesty, major
Infractions only gods can shrug
Off and they strip
Here of its topsoil, slip silver in
Evacuated seam: light suddenly
Seems dangerous, sharp as any
Blade and she grinds
Its glitters till only visionary
Sight will withstand seen, scene fit for
Myth, no, its allegory, story in
Search of catalyzing enzyme;
And what does that mean further discomforts,
Turns frame to
Founders: every
Angle flounders, finds limits to what
Cannot be born, border
Between terror and sheer action, intent so
Intense every cell slows
Down to the speed of
No ideology than trying not to cut myself, which cannot
Explain why I want to be full of facets—
Beautifully cut and swinging from your ear.